


my blood runs red but my body feels so cold

by katyfaise



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/pseuds/katyfaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room around her blurs slightly and she feels tears burn at the corner of her eyes.</p>
<p>It reminds her of the way the flames burned up around the both of them before they’d escaped the explosion in the dining car of a train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my blood runs red but my body feels so cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearxalchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/gifts).



> Another birthday present for dear Ace! I told you there'd be smut.

They’d both nearly died in the mission - fire singed the bottom of her dress and his jacket and they’d seen their lives flash before their eyes. It’s no surprise that when they come back to their shared hotel room, Gaby stomps in ahead of Illya with tiny fists balled at her sides. The room around her blurs slightly and she feels tears burn at the corner of her eyes.

It reminds her of the way the flames burned up around the both of them before they’d escaped the explosion in the dining car of a train.

She turns around suddenly and stares at Illya, who’s leaning back against the closed hotel door with his head bowed and his breaths slow. Gaby hates this feeling - this tightening in her chest that can only be described as a fear that lingers inside of her. She’s come close to dying so many times but never has she had to watch Illya’s eyes grow wide and see the gears turn in his mind that maybe, just maybe, this is when he loses her. 

He finally looks up and meets her eyes and Gaby takes a tentative step toward him. Once she’s close enough, she reaches up and her fingers touch the fine stubble that lines his jaw. 

“I’m here,” she whispers. “I’m alive. You saved me.”

Illya drops to his knees in front of her, long arms wrapping around her waist as he pulls her close and rests his cheek against her middle. He inhales her, but she knows the only thing he will smell is the burning smoke from before. But she doesn’t step away, ashamed of that fact like any other moment. Instead, she tips his hat off of his head and runs her fingers through his blond hair, holding his head against her body. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and she wonders if she imagines the moisture that she feels through her thin dress. Gaby shushes him and stares down at him with kind eyes, and when he looks up at her again, her face is calm and content. 

“I don’t feel alive,” Gaby says quietly, and Illya knows exactly what she means by those words. She wants to feel human again, like she’s not weak like the world hadn’t very nearly crumbled around them mere hours before. He keeps his eyes locked on hers tightly as his strong hands snake up her thighs, underneath the singed end of her dress. Illya watches her swallow while his thumb dips into her underwear and immediately gravitates toward her clit.

He rubs his calloused thumb over the nub of nerves roughly at first, until he circles it in a slow pattern. Gaby lets her head fall back, her eyes closed tight as she focuses on how good it feels and how easy it would be to fall backward now. He stops suddenly, and she whines out for more but Illya stands long enough to lead her back to the couch that sits opposite them. The lights from the city shine inside the room through a large window, illuminating the darkness that they’re surrounded by and Illya undresses her in front of it. When she falls back to the couch, her naked skin hitting the smooth fabric, Illya kneels in front of her and nudges her knees apart with single kisses atop each one. 

Illya brushes his lips up her thigh, his teeth biting down hard enough to bring a tiny moan from her lips before he kisses his way back to her clit. She’s wet now, warm and welcoming and the way her fingers tangle in his hair only prove that she wants him now. Illya runs his tongue along her cunt, tasting her and reminding her that she’s definitely alive. Her hips move gently against his face, craving and wanting so much more than he’s giving her. He uses his tongue to tease her, and his fingers dip in and out of her slowly as she tries to move her body down to force him deeper. But Illya never cracks - he pushes her right to her edge and he backs off, not allowing her to come despite how her body begs him for release. 

She moans out, deep and guttural and begging, but Illya smiles against her cunt, his tongue darting against her clit as she chases him for more. When he pulls back, Gaby is a mess on the couch, her chest heaving and her face tangled with want and anger and emotions that neither of them can quite place. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she breathes out, gripping the edge of the couch beneath her. 

“I thought this was about feeling alive,” Illya counters smoothly, and Gaby regrets all the times he’s been in Napoleon’s presence. 

“Smart ass,” she complains, but she leans forward, and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him and tasting herself on his lips. “I am alive and you’re alive with me. So let’s make the most of it, now,” Gaby says quietly, biting down on his bottom lip. Illya seems to have no qualms about her celebration of life, and when she pushes him back onto the floor he goes willingly. Gaby’s hands confidently undo the buckle of his belt and she pushes his slacks and briefs down. He’s hard as it is, but she fists a small hand around his cock and squeezes gently, happy with the moan it brings from Illya’s lips.

She crawls onto him then, her legs straddling his waist as she runs her hands up the planes of his body beneath his sweater. Illya leans up slightly to help her remove it and Gaby tosses it aside, now pleased that nothing separates their skin. She leans over him, her hair loose, and Illya reaches up to curls his fingers in the ends of her hair. His fingers brush against her nipples then and Gaby sighs with pleasure, her eyes closing for a quick second. Illya rests on an elbow and pulls her down so his lips can wrap around a hardened nipple and he bites gently before he licks away a drop of sweat that beads between her breasts. 

“I will always protect you,” he says suddenly, his lips moving against the space between her breasts and once more Gaby wraps her arms around him and holds him to her. 

“I trust you, always,” she tells him, then lifts her hips and lowers herself onto his cock. Gaby goes slowly, stretching herself as he fills her. He’s always let her take control in these moments and he’s never rushed her, and her words are even truer. There’s nobody she trusts more than him, especially when it comes to making her feel like she’s truly a human being. Illya falls back against the carpet and grasps her hips, holding her tight as she leads him. She rolls her hips forward and Illya thrusts up to meet her halfway, pressing himself as deep as he can manage. He watches as she moves and he thinks that he watches an angel hovering there, bringing him pleasure in ways he cannot even imagine.

When Gaby comes, she does so with a loud, muffled moan against his chest and she bites down - all of these emotions and violence coiled up in her tiny body. The way her cunt tightens around him brings his orgasm as well, and he comes inside of her without pretense. She lays against him, her body shaking as the aftershocks move through her and Illya wraps his arms around her, holding her exactly as he had earlier when he’d pulled her from the burning train car. 

She feels safe. She feels his love. And she feels alive - there’s no weakness in either of them, except for the weakness they feel for the other. 

And Gaby can live with that.


End file.
